


Even Angels Need a Holiday

by sherbal



Series: Hello, Mr Curtis. I'm here to destroy another of your classics [1]
Category: Love Actually (2003), Notting Hill (1999)
Genre: Every relationship has its own timeline, It's not about some polygonal relationships, M/M, Yes Richard Curtis here I come to destroy your other beloved works, rubbish debate about true love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 05:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13311492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherbal/pseuds/sherbal
Summary: Bella died. Max was broken. Rufus came, again.





	Even Angels Need a Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, here I am, again, to destroy classics.  
> You know, the funny thing is, after all those Blackadder episodes, during the entire movie of Notting hill, I barely noticed Hugh Grant when Tim McInnerny appeared on the screen, though I didn't take Hugh for granted:"  
> I'm weird, aren't I? I've started to ship grandpas. It's horrible. I know. I can't help it.
> 
> Again, I don't know what happened to me that all those ideas were rushing into my head when I really should be doing something else like taking care of my life.  
> I'll give you guys an outline. You can decide if it will worth your time.
> 
> Bella died.(she's very sweet and I hate to do it. I'm not a misogynist.[hell, I never think I'll be able to use this word one day] I don't normally kill off ladies in the canon to make room for male characters' romance. Look, I even put Max/Bella relationship tag on the first place. They are such a sweet couple and my heart hurt during the dinning scene about winning a brownie)  
> Right, enough excuses to kill her off.  
> Max's heartbroken, as said in the summary.  
> Rufus from the "Love Actually" universe is actually a Christmas angel(in the original script) in charge of love, which means he encourages some love(distracting the security to help the little boy to get to his girl) and discourages some other kinds of love (giftwrapping the necklace painfully slowly to make the married boss stop buying it for his secretary. I hate to say it here, but indeed, RIP Mr Rickman.)  
> Rufus had in mind that Will and Bella should be true love, not Max and Bella. He tried to intervene in the past but failed (probably because Max is also not ordinary human too)  
> When Bella died, Rufus had to be there for Max.  
> Right, that's about it.
> 
> If you're reading this, Richard, you should be glad I still haven't watched Four weddings and a funeral.

A hospital always has to be the witness of all kinds of emotions. It’s only a cold construction built of glass, cement and steel. It has nowhere to go and nothing to do for this moment or the next several years, just standing there, observing but not judging.

In one day, it will hear the first cry of newborn children with the first beam of sunlight shyly squeezing through the cracks in the curtains. It will see the anxious faces of people sitting in the corridor waiting for the people they care about in the surgery rooms. It will smell the soapy, slightly rotten odour of old people with canes and walkers that can somehow remind everyone of how precious time is. It will taste the tears on the carpet when the day finally comes but no one can do anything.

A man just lost his wife. After months and months of painful treatments and bitter pills, she finally could have a good long indefinite shut-eye. In fact, she could rest as long as she pleased. She was too tired. Ever since the therapy started, she lost weight. Cheeks sunken. Eyes deep-set. Lips pale. She used to be lovely, like a flowing lily in the see-through creek. She had the sweetest smile and the cutest dimples. She used to be a Belle. And she still was, to someone, even though she had lost her last breath.

Her husband was sitting next to her on a hospital chair which was sat by thousands of people with maybe the same or slightly different emotions. He caressed and kissed her cold bloodless hands again and again, hoping to warm her as long as he could. He whispered her names over and over until it almost sounded like a prayer or a charm. His heart beat for her but her heart couldn’t bear for him anymore.

He was there for her but she wasn’t there for him.

The room had two souls, then one, and then two again. He didn’t know whether he really didn’t notice that at first, or he simply couldn’t care less. Another man, or perhaps another creature looked like a man, was standing by the window, bathing under the place moonlight, watching all of this or all of that. His eyes clam and deep, as if seeing through those pale wan walls and going far beyond for all the souls, happy or unhappy, fortune or unfortunate.

He didn’t speak. The husband didn’t know what he was going to speak about. Maybe the man by the window didn’t, too. Maybe he was only nervous, having this situation for the first time and didn’t know what to say. Or maybe he wanted to say something, but couldn’t figure it out how to say it.

The clock ticked calmly, steadily on the wall, timing for them in this competition.

“Are you happy now?” Asked the man seated.

“No,” said the man standing.

“Congratulations. Well done. I think it’s time you can say ‘I told you so’. Come on, go ahead. Say it. I know you want to,” said the man who just lost his wife.

The other man remained silent.

“All your tricks worked so perfectly. You must be working really hard to wait for this day. I can’t imagine a more painful way you can put me through. Must take a lot of mind jobs. Well done. A promotion will be in place soon.”

The other man still didn’t speak a word.

“Fuck off. How dare you show yourself here? Thanks to you, she’s gone. Your mission is complete and now pack up your stupid smug face to get the fuck out of here.”

“I’m sorry.” The man by the window didn’t move.

“I said get the fuck out of here! Your sympathy means nothing to me.”

When the vase hit the wall, before the first drop of the water wet the carpet, the man was gone.

//

At the funeral, when people gathered around the vicar to hear his words that had been said to millions of people, dead or alive, in or out; he saw him through the crowd. Black woolen overcoat. Dark blue suit. Pinstripe grey tie. Hat off. Standing at a distance. Just under the old pine tree. Watching him or perhaps not watching him.

The widower didn’t want to pick up a fight. He knew he could never win. So he turned his eyes away. He wanted his wife to have his full attention before resting six-foot underground. He suddenly remembered the time they first met each other. It was also a cold autumn day like this. The sky’s high and clear. The air’s dry and cool. He was a bad poet but if the right one was willing to hear, he could cite Shakespeare and Keats, even Burns only to make her laugh. They’ve spent such wonderful time together, short but sweet, but not good enough for him to forget this pain of seeing more and more dirt thrown on the coffin.

When he raised his head up again, the man under the old pine tree was gone.

//

He took long walks along the Thames like they used to. Long, tiring walks until they could barely make it home and had to stop and sit on those dirty benches to rest their feet. She usually put her legs on his laps and he would tickle her ankles even though told not to. She would laugh and then kiss him. They would share a hotdog and a cup of latte then had the strength to walk back home.

It rained. Forgot to bring an umbrella.

She was terrible at remembering to take an umbrella when out. It was always him to remind her of those things like the weather, dinner with neighbours, where are the keys. And now, without her, he remembered he was not good at those things too.

He waved at a taxi. When he settled at the back, he remembered their first kiss. It was in a smelly cab, like this. Their second date and when she said goodbye, she opened the door again and kissed him. Her perfume was on him all night and he had to stay up to wait until it was gone before taking a shower.

They shared a taxi many times during these years. Coming back home from a date at a new restaurant. Going to work together. Heading for the Heathrow for their holiday in Naples. They would sit quietly next to each other only holding hands for she could get car-sick sometimes during heavy traffic.

How he wished for just one more time with her, in a taxi, holding hands and looking at the pasting buildings and people and her.

The cab reached his house. When he looked up to check the fee, he saw the other man staring back at him in the rear-view mirror.

He was too tired to be angry so he acted like nothing happened and paid the fee and even a tip.

//

The next time he saw him was at the supermarket. Not that he kept counting.

He was buying beers and wines. Cheap mass-produced alcohol was what he needed to face an empty room.

He tried to hide those bottles under broccolis and carrots and healthy lifestyle magazines. Then he saw the other man glancing through the children’s books just behind him. For one moment, he thought he was hallucinating. And then he was sure.

But he’s got a whole trolley of beers and ghastly cheap red wines so he didn’t want to be thrown out by the shop manager after a fight. So he just pull the trolley away.

When he was checking out, he reached under the broccoli and the carrots and the healthy lifestyle magazine, and found only two bottles of milk which he forgot to get and some toasts and beans. All the beers and wines were gone. He left the trolley at the checkout point with the checkout girl Judy glaring at him. And headed back to the wine section.

//

At midnight, or three in the morning, or three in the afternoon. He couldn’t tell.

The room was dark with curtains drew together, so he wouldn’t see the garden that was long abandoned through the window. It used to be her favourite thing to take care of those flowers. Daffodils and roses. Meadowsweets and cowslips. She used to sit in their little garden all day just to see those dragonflies and bees swaying in the breeze.

He didn’t know how to cope with this. After a week, a month, two months, he couldn’t stop thinking about her for even one second.

He thought he ruined her. If it was not for him, she could be happily married to Will with three children now.

He hates himself and he hates the man who was silently standing in the kitchen, watching him.

“You know, you’re probably right. If we followed your design, everything would be alright now.” He felt his tongue numb. His head hurt. And his heart broken as always. “She and Will were true love. Not with me. I should have listened to you and she would still be alive. Isn’t it? And now, now you took her away from me. But don’t you think the punishment is too hard? What did she do wrong?”

He stood up, dropping the beer bottle to the carpet. Couldn’t care less about the stains that would make him regret about it later.

“You’re a cruel bastard. It’s December now. Just weeks till Christmas. Any setting-ups at the moment? Breaking up the ‘wrong’ ones and finding them some ‘true love’ for them? You are like Janus, aren’t you? Sorry, I mean anus.”

The man in the kitchen looked at him or perhaps not. His face couldn’t be seen in the darkness.

He slowly approached the sober one in the house, standing in front of him, almost could smell the heavy woolen fabric of the long coat.

“Why don’t you say something? Are you feeling sorry now? Or you just want to see how I can suffer after ruining your plan? Right, come, sit down. I have loads of stories to tell you.” He dragged him by the sleeve, leading the man back to the sofa, and then handed him a beer.

“She always wanted children. I can’t give her one. Yes, we fought about this. She almost left. I changed her mind. Will visited her few times, probably he still loves her. But I made sure she was only mine. I’m a cruel bastard too, I guess.”

He stopped to open another beer.

“Then she got sick and became weaker and weaker each day. And I suddenly was so happy that I was all she could have now. I loved to know there was no one else she could turn to, only me, just me.”

He smiled bitterly and clicked his beer bottle with the other man’s.

“You’re right from the start. We’ll never work out. It’s not true love. I thought my love was enough for both of us. But I guess it’s not true. I took her from Will. And she didn’t even know much about me at that time. And she never would.”

He buried his face in hands and cried.

The man sat beside him also shut his eyes tightly.

“My selfishness ruined everything. I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t.”

The confession came slowly, painfully.

“Maximilian, I didn’t take her from you. I never could,” the other man said, “and it was not because of you that she passed away. Everything happens unexpectedly and both you and I can’t control everything. Even you and she may not be true love at first but I’m sure she loved you.”

“You never give us your blessings. How could she ever love me if not I made her to?”

The other man went silent again and then drank from the bottle before saying another word.

“I did.”

“But...why?”

“Some true love will not work out sometimes. It doesn’t mean people can’t be happy.” And he stopped, staring at the stains on the carpet for a while. “Because I also think that even if it’s not true love from both ones, one’s love can be enough.”

Max raised his face from his hands and stared at his companion.

“Do you remember the time you told me that you didn’t believe in the existence of true love? That it’s rubbish and only fools and teenage girls should believe it? You said it was me arbitrarily and capriciously pulling people together and calling it true love. And maybe months later, they will be fighting with each other about children or dogs or who should take the garbage out.”

“Yes?”

“Do you still believe so?”

“Yes, I do. How unlikely you can find someone in this world in love with you while you are in love with them?”

“You know, Maximilian. I’ve started to believe that too.”

“What? You can’t be. Your whole life’s purpose is to bring true loves together and you say you don’t believe that there can be true love?”

“I never doubt that there can be people that are madly in love with each other in the world. I stopped believing this whole idea of ‘true love’. What is true love anyway? Your wife that has two kids with you or your secretary that understands who you are and what you really want? Pairing people together because I think it’s true love while tearing people apart because I think it’s not, is just wrong. What if I’m wrong and end up doing the bad thing when it’s supposed to be good?”

“So you still believe there are people that are head-over-heels over each other.”

“Yes, it’s my job.”

“But you just said you think your job is shit and useless.”

“We’re talking about two things here, Maximilian. I think you should sober up.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

Suddenly the alcohol left his veins after just a simple snap of fingers.

“So, you think there are real lovers out there. But you stopped classifying them as ‘true love’ or not?”

“Yes.”

“Then what about those like me that fall in love with someone who can’t love you back?”

“It used to be your job to find the right ones together and I’ll help to pair them up. It was just this simple. And then you left a mess to me and said something about needing to find your own answer. Now you ask me your question which after all those years you still can’t find the answer to. You see, when you fuck up and I’ll have to take both jobs and this shit comes up.”

“What did they say about me quitting?”

“I think they didn’t notice. It’s all about whether or not to destroy nuclear weapons for humans now up there. Love? No one bloody cares.”

“One more question, why didn’t you tell me you didn’t try to break Bella and I apart in the past?” Max frowned at his carpet.

“I thought if you have a specific thing to blame instead of not knowing why this happened, it might be easier for you to accept this. I’m sorry.”

After a long silence and painful stares at the dirty carpet, Max let out a sigh.

“When I asked you what do you think when it comes to one-sided love years ago, you said it is an ecumenical matter. And now, you say it’s my problem. Why don’t you give me a straight answer, Rufus?”

“You didn’t give me a straight question and how could I give you a straight answer, Maximilian?”

“You’re still a coward.” Max laughed.

“The other angel put down his bottle on the glass table.

“Fine, what do you expect me to say? If I have even a slightest of your power, I’ll make you mine and only mine until the end of time. You’ll never leave me, never going after someone you just met on the streets. You’ll never be heartbroken and even if you do, I’ll make sure you are in my arms when you cry. I can’t figure it out what to do with others who have unrequited feelings but I know I want nothing more than your love and yet your heart never beat for me and probably never will.”

“Rufus, listen, I have something to confess. I need you to forgive me. Or better, don’t forgive me.” Max inhaled deeply. “I made you love me. Your love is not real. I only did that because I wanted a partner that could listen to me and obey my wishes. I tricked you. I’m sorry but if you would let me, I’ll make it stop. I’m selfish and pathetic. Still wondering why the devil himself hasn’t given me an offer yet.”

He got on his knees between the sofa and the coffee table, cautiously touching Rufus’ knees.

Max was afraid for one moment that the other angel would leave.

“You’re selfish and pathetic.”

Max sighed, knowing it would end this way.

“And incredibly stupid. I knew it all along. But I can’t stop it. I don’t want it stopped.” Rufus took Max’s hands in his own.

They both smiled at each other in the dark.

“I won’t ask you ‘do you love me’. I know you are a terrible liar. You still love her and probably will never stop.” Rufus lowered his head to take a better look at his partner for countless years. “I have to leave. I’ve got so many works to do around Christmas. You feckless pig.”

“Go ahead, you workaholic.” He was pulled up by Rufus then the other man walked towards the door.

“Rufus?”

“Yes?” The other man turned before opening the door. He was nervous, Max could tell. Maximilian was almost sad that he couldn’t give what Rufus really wanted to hear.

“Any plan for the holiday? Perhaps take a day off? Hiking or shopping or a small holiday dinner?”

Rufus shrugged. “Yeah, why not?”

End

 

 

 

“Ask me that question again.”

“What? So you’ll lie to my face again and ran off with some random people you find attractive in this restaurant.”

“I promise I won’t lie. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Right, I know you just received Beelzebub ‘s email of offering the job—the minister of mental torture department. I have no intention of going down there with you.”

“No! I’m not looking for any jobs at the moment. Being a human is so great. Just make sure you pay your taxes on time. I think you should consider laying off the jobs sometimes. Let them handle their love. We can’t decide it for them and we probably shouldn’t try to encourage or discourage them. Love is a mystery, to all, even us. Right, ask me that question again.”

“Fine, Fine. I hope it’s not a cheap joke. Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Right, after reading this crap which had high ambition to have a serious debate about true love and actually turned into a cheap ripoff of Neil Gaiman’s good omens, you can decide whether or not to read this end note.
> 
> I think this idea of making Max and Rufus the angels of love (one in charge of pairing people together and the other one helping to ensure it. Sort of like the relationship between the politicians and the civil servants in the British politics.) came when I read on the Wikipedia that Rufus was meant to be the Christmas angel in the original script. Then I thought it’s funny that he helped the little boy in the airport to go chase after his girl, but discouraged the mid-aged boss from buying a necklace for his secretary.
> 
> So what made he think that the boss and his secretary is not true love? It’s very difficult to tell if it’s true love even if you’re in this relationship, definitely even harder to tell one when you’re just an outsider. So comes the question, what is true love even though it was mentioned millions of times in the movies. It became a concept that no one really understands but everything can be molded to fit its description.
> 
> In case I’m a terrible writer that can’t write and explain very clearly (which is true), I’ll clear things up a bit here to avoid confusions (not that I’m having a press conference for my ten or so readers. Btw, thanks for reading this.)
> 
> Max took Bella away from Will and made her love him by using his superhuman angel power because he fell in love with her the moment he met her. Bella and Will were meant to be a true love couple that Rufus picked out, since Max quit his job of doing it and Rufus had to take over both jobs. It’s very difficult to say if Bella did love Max. I think she did, even though at first she was made to. That’s the most obvious relationship line in the first half of the story.  
> But what lies deeper down there is the true love(even it’s from one side) of Rufus to Max. When Bella died and Max was devastated, Rufus was always there for him to make sure he was okay.  
> In the dinning scene in Max and Bella’s house when they were competing for the biggest loser here for a brownie, Max didn’t speak about himself. And actually, in the movie, we know about sad situation of Bernie, honey, Bella, and of course Will and Anna. But not very much about Max except he and his wife really love each other. So I guess that’s the problem. This idea of making him a horrible selfish irresponsible angle was really tempting. He loves people so easily and though he takes each one seriously, in his long long angel life, it’s inevitable to appear to be frivolous and changeable. And that comes the bit I really like about this fic, even though he appeared as a very brotherly human and deep down a irrational careless angel, there’s someone loving him no matter what. 
> 
> Rufus always strikes me as one who sees it all and controls it all though he may not show this. It must be fun to know he can also surrender to his love even being an angel in charge of it.
> 
> Anyway, here ends my nonsense. Well thank you again for reading it and if you have anything to say, do comment. I’m desperate to get feedbacks.


End file.
